


The Next Best Thing

by Philosophics



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 11:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12886788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosophics/pseuds/Philosophics
Summary: “This is a bad idea,” Genji said.“Probably,” McCree replied, breezily.--(Written for CLASSIFIED: A Blackwatch Zine)





	The Next Best Thing

**Author's Note:**

> I had the distinct honor and pleasure to contribute to the fantastic [CLASSIFIED: A Blackwatch Zine](https://twitter.com/BlackwatchZine). Shout-out to all the talented contributors and the wondrous organizers who made it all happen.

 

 

**OVERWATCH HQ, SWITZERLAND**

 

“Whoa, not lookin’ too hot, Boss. Trouble in paradise?” McCree asked.

Reyes didn’t glance his way. “I’ve been stuck in meetings all damn day,” the commander grumbled, stomping over to his desk, “getting my ear talked off by idiots with more hot air in their heads than sense, so I’m in no mood for your mouth, McCree.”

“C’mon, Chief. And here I had news on that group we’re trackin’.”

Reyes turned to him sharply. “What? Why the hell didn't you tell me sooner?”

McCree shrugged, thumbs hooked in his pockets. “Well, I would've but you were busy gettin’ yer ear talked off, I hear.”

Reyes pinched the bridge of his nose. “What'd I just say about mouthing off, _pende—”_

“Apologies, sir,” McCree interrupted, holding up his hands. Taking off his hat, he dropped into the chair facing Reyes's desk. “We hit the jackpot. Snagged the coordinates of a supply facility near Stockholm, details forthcomin’.”

“First piece of good news I’ve heard all day.” Reyes sat, propping his elbows up on his desk. “This might be the lead we need. A lot hinges on us shutting these bastards down, which is why I'm putting you on point.”

McCree clasped his hat to his chest. “Aw, Commander. I'm flattered, truly.”

“Can it.” Reyes grabbed his datapad and tapped the screen. “I want you in there ASAP to scout it out. Resources are tight right now but I can spot you backup if necessary.” He held McCree’s eye. “Don’t do anything reckless.”

“Have I ever let you down?”

Reyes gave a bark of laughter. McCree felt almost offended.

“Oh, and you’re not going alone,” Reyes continued. “I’m sending the new recruit with you. He’s been performing well in eval and deemed field-ready. Maybe you can show him the ropes.”

“Me?”

“Let's just say I see something alike in you two,” Reyes responded, looking back to his datapad. A dismissal.

McCree stood, hat in hand, and made for the door.

“McCree.”

He paused mid-stride, head cocked.

“Pickup’ll be at nineteen-hundred tomorrow. Don’t fuck up.” 

“Have I ever?” McCree plopped his hat back onto his head. “Y’know what, don’t answer that.”

 

 

 

Down the hall, Training and Evaluation was, as usual, abuzz with activity. McCree observed the training area through the glass partition, fiddling with an unlit cigar. He hastily pocketed it upon hearing the sound of heels clicking over hard floor.

“That better not have been a cigarette I just saw, Agent McCree.” Angela approached him, her lab coat immaculate as always.

“Absolutely not, ma’am.” Technically, it wasn't a lie.

The doctor followed his gaze down to where the new recruit stood. He was easy to spot; the red ring on the breastplate of his cybernetics shone like a beacon. “I hear his first official mission is tomorrow,” she remarked.

McCree nodded. The rookie—one Genji Shimada, fresh out of Recovery and Rehabilitation, and before that, Hanamura, Japan. Only a few years younger than McCree and promising to say the least: prior combat training, exceptional swordsmanship, and a damn impressive amount of augmentative cybernetics.

“Reyes assigned him to my op. Said he’s ready.” McCree watched the cyborg slice through several training bots with more force than was strictly necessary. “What’s yer verdict, Doc?”

“His procedure was state of the art. From my observations, his recovery’s been remarkable, considering…” she trailed off, brow creased. McCree didn’t need to ask; he’d witnessed firsthand the man’s condition when he’d been brought in.

“Still hasn’t said who did it to him, huh?” he asked lowly.

“Not a word,” Angela said, just as muted. “All signs point to a conflict within his clan. We have our suspicions but so far he’s been uncooperative during questioning. I’m sure he’ll open up in time. Anyway, it’s not as if he’s been in any condition to provide answers until recently, and even now—” She shrugged. “His mental state is stable, but his emotional state…” She hesitated, then finished, “He’s angry, Jesse. I’m sure you can understand.”

He did. From the beginning, the man had insisted on being called simply by his first name, no surname. McCree doubted the request was out of friendliness.

Aloud he said, “Poor guy hasn’t gotten off in at least months, bless his soul. Who can blame him for bein’ cranky?”

“Don’t be crass, McCree,” she scolded, but she was hiding a smile deep down, he was sure of it.

 

 

 

**SWEDEN, JUST OUTSIDE STOCKHOLM, MISSION TIME: 01:05:11**

 

“Hey, rookie.”

“My name is Genji.” The cyborg’s mask gave his voice a hollow, metallic inflection.

“Right. Genji, then.” McCree set a cigar between his lips, unperturbed. “Perimeter secure?”

“Yes. No sign of activity, hostile or otherwise.”

McCree lit the cig. “The facility ain’t large but intel says it's a labyrinth. On the upside, there ain’t many personnel inside. I reckon we jus’ need to get to the comm room ‘n’ all the info we need’ll be there for the takin’.”

“What’s your plan?”

McCree blew out a puff of smoke. “Use the front door.”

“… You can’t be serious,” Genji said, eyes wide.

“Sure am. My bet is it's what they’d least expect. Personally, I'd rather deal with a couple of grunts than sit on my ass ‘n’ get nowhere.”

They both eyed the building.

“This is a bad idea,” Genji said.

“Probably,” McCree replied, breezily, “but we don’t got time to play it safe—they know we’re on their tail. Plus, Reyes’ll have my hide if we fail so that ain’t an option.” He looked over at the other man. “‘S matter, got cold feet? No shame in that. This is yer first op after all.”

The cyborg's eyes narrowed. “Don’t doubt my abilities, Agent McCree. I can handle this.”

“Jus’ McCree’s fine. 'Agent’ sounds like I’m in trouble. ‘Sides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“We die.”

“The question was rhetorical, y’see.”

Genji didn’t reply. McCree studied him out of the corner of his eye. The man was tense but stolid, exuding his typical stony-eyed intenseness. Strapped to his back, amidst the daunting array of bionetic cables, was the long, wicked curve of his blade, honed steel sheathed in sleek black polymer.

_‘Something alike’, huh?_

“Well, no time to dawdle. Let’s get this over with,” McCree announced. Genji turned; their eyes met and McCree’s smirk stretched wide. “You’d best try to keep up, pardner.”

 

 

 

**OVERWATCH HQ, 2.5 HOURS LATER**

 

“What the hell’d I tell you, Agent McCree?” Reyes snarled. His glare cut to Genji. “Both of you”

“It was my command, sir,” McCree quickly interjected. “Any failure is my responsibility.”

“It’s not that. In fact”—Reyes tossed his datapad aside—“the mission was a complete blasted success and you damn well know it.”

“Then—”

Reyes ignored him, muttering, “It was a clean job, at least, if needlessly risky. All hostiles dispatched, minimal collateral damage…” He stopped there. “That was one hell of a gamble”—he rounded on Genji—“and you went along with it.”

McCree opened his mouth but Reyes cut him off. “Save it, McCree. That wasn’t a rebuke.”

“Coulda fooled me, Boss.”

Reyes scowled. “You're damn lucky you pulled it off.”

“Or, incredibly good at our job,” McCree offered.

Next to him, Genji stiffened. Reyes glowered.

“—sir,” McCree added.

Reyes rubbed his temple with his knuckles, then straightened. “I expect those mission reports in my inbox first thing tomorrow morning. And”—he looked them both in the eyes—“good work, you two. Now beat it.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Once they were on the safe side of the door, McCree expelled a relieved breath and set his hat back in place. “Well, that went better than expected.”

“The commander was angry,” Genji said slowly.

“Downright furious,” McCree agreed.

“Yet he praised us.”

“You'll get used to it.” McCree clapped him on the shoulder, not missing the way Genji startled at the gesture. “Anyhow, good work today. Ain’t had that much fun in ages. Reminded me of my good ol’ days.”

That got him a blank look.

“No one told ya?” McCree lifted his forearm, displaying the tattoo emblazoned there. “Used to run with a gang way back. Got into all kinds of shit 'til it got us thrown in the slammer. Well, most of us.”

Genji scoffed, "Did you think yourself invincible?"

"Naw. Not invincible, but the next best thing." McCree gave him a grin, with teeth. “Nuthin’ to lose."

“Nothing to lose… I see.” The other man let out an honest-to-god chuckle then, the first McCree had heard. It was dry, but it was something. “That’s the dumbest thing I've heard.”

“Hey! Rookie like you oughta show some respect.” McCree crossed his arms but his mouth was tugged up in a smile.

“I will show respect when I believe it’s been earned,” Genji shot back.

McCree chortled. “Hah. Somethin’ tells me we’re gonna get along jus’ fine. Consider this your formal welcome aboard, Agent Genji.” He stuck out his hand.

After a moment's pause, Genji took it.

 

 


End file.
